


Let it Be

by Karategrl80



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Amara - Freeform, Asexual Dean Winchester, Asexual Supernatural Mini Bang 2019, But Sam and Cas love him anyway, Dean is an Idiot, Familiar Castiel, Familiar Dean Winchester, Gen, Kid Jack Kline, M/M, Minor Moose Warning, Platonic Relationships, Polyamory, Sastiel - Freeform, Sastiel Dads, Witch Sam Winchester, anna milton - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-11-01 22:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20522078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karategrl80/pseuds/Karategrl80
Summary: The Me’tai are a magical race coexisting (mostly) with humans.  Some have control over natural energies, while others are capable of channeling that energy.  Sam and Dean grew up with one foot in the Me’tai world, and one foot in the human world.  Their mother, Mary, a strong witch, was killed when Sam was only 6 months old.  John, their human father, feared the worst for his sons, and did his best to raise them “human.”  As they got older, though, it became clear that they were never going to pass as “human.”  Sam had potential to be as powerful as his mother was, if not more, and Dean was an often sought after catwing familiar.  When Sam decides to attend Stanford’s Magic Division, Dean goes with him.  While there, Sam meets his lifebond, a catwing familiar named Cas, and after graduation Sam, Cas, and Dean settle down in Palo Alto. Sam and Cas work as arcane lawyers and Dean as a mechanic at a local human owned auto shop.  Sam and Cas adopt a Me’tai child named Jack, whose parents tragically died a year ago.  Everything seems fine until Dean starts acting out of character, and Sam and Cas need to work together to help a very resistant Dean become comfortable with himself, his heritage as a Me’tai, and as a familiar.





	1. Carry That Weight

**Author's Note:**

> *Waves*
> 
> Hi! This is my first bang of any sort, mini or otherwise! *EEK!!*  
Please check out the wonderful artwork by KrisN5 (Tumblr)
> 
> At some point, KrisN5 emailed me and asked me if I had a title yet, and I no lie was like, "I can't just call it ASMB 2019? Fudge!"
> 
> So I thought maybe giving all the chapters proper names would help, and I realized that as I had wrote, I'd already named two of the chapters after Beatles' songs or lyrics. I have an entire playlist of Beatles music floating in my brain, so it took maaaaaaaaaaaaybe a total of 10 minutes to find song titles that fit my chapters and eventually, the title of the piece.
> 
> I hope all of that made sense, I'm exhausted today from my first day back to work (new school year!) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> *wrings hands nervously*
> 
> Please feel free to come make friends! I'm Karategirl80 on Tumblr, and I also *blatent self promotion* have a fic rec Tumblr called Karateficrec. Check them out!

“Sam, I’m concerned about Dean.” 

“What?” I ask. I’m buried in an ancient tome searching for a specific spell for a case, and had been for at least the past hour, so Cas’ sudden statement was confusing. When I recover, I say, “You know he gets like that sometimes, Cas--we just have to wait until he is ready to share.” 

Cas isn’t willing to let it go, though. “I know he’s withdrawn before, but usually he goes to the TV den and drinks beer and watches Dr. Sexy for a week and then pulls out of it. But he hasn’t left his room in a week, and he’s spent most of that week cat shaped. That’s not healthy for us, Sam--we’re supposed to spend equal time in human and animal shape..”

“Cas, I talked to him yesterday!” I exclaim. 

“And as soon as you left, he transformed and curled back up on his pillow and went to sleep. When’s the last time you saw him eat?”

I know Cas wouldn’t be pressing if he wasn't really worried, so I considered his question. It HAD been a while since I’ve seen Dean anywhere near the kitchen. And Cas isn’t wrong about Dean acting out of character by staying in his room. When was the last time he went for a drive in Baby? In fact… “Crap, Cas, the last time I went grocery shopping he didn’t go--he let me take Baby. By myself. I think you’re right, something has got to be wrong. But you know what it’s like to get him to talk.”

“Indeed. But until we figure it out, I think we need to keep an eye on him.”

“Agreed.”

******* 

_ I wish I understood what was wrong with me. I really wasn’t sure how long I’d been in my room, and I didn’t have the energy to check my phone. If it was even still charged. And I surely couldn’t go out and ask Sam or Cas--that would be a giant beacon that SOMETHING WAS WRONG and they didn’t deserve to have to worry about me. And they would. They’d get all hover-y and worried and it would just make everything worse. _

_ I must have drifted asleep in the middle of my musings because the next thing I knew there was something batting at my head. I sluggishly opened an eye to see Cas in his cat shape playfully batting at my ears. I hissed at him and tried to back away, only to find I was already backed against the headboard of my bed. I startled, stood, and arched my back, my fur and wings fluffing automatically. And that seemed to be the end of my energy reserves, because suddenly my world was spinning, and I found myself flopped back on the pillow, not really sure how I got there. I heard a loud yowl and then everything went dark. _

*******

When I heard Cas’ yowl, and felt his fear through our bond, I sprinted to Dean’s room, and almost fainted myself at seeing Dean sprawled unnaturally on his pillow.

* _ We need to get him help immediately, Sam _ .* Cas urged me through our bond.

“I know,” I reply. “Can you go get the carrier? If he wakes up, I don’t want him to startle and run away from us. We might not be able to find him if he hides in a sneaky spot.“ In an instant, Cas transforms, and where a moment ago there was a tortoiseshell catwing there is now a fully clothed human. Without another word, he rushes past me out of Dean’s room to get the carrier. I carefully slide my hands under Dean and pick him up. He is unnaturally light, and I wonder how long this “not eating” thing has actually been going on. He obviously isn’t going to be person-heavy as a cat, but he isn’t properly cat-heavy either. He feels more like a pillow, and that is NOT his normal weight. His normally shiny black and silver coat is now dull, giving his silver tabby swirls a greyish brown hue. I bring him to my chest and carefully listen. The sound of his heartbeat and breath, although quiet, comes at me steadily. Well, that’s positive, at least.

Cas returns with a fluffy towel and a cat carrier. Between the two of us, we manage to gently wrap him in the towel and get him situated comfortably in the carrier. We head out to my car, since I can more easily secure the carrier in the back seat and I won’t hear the end of it if something happens to the Impala. As I get on the road, Cas calls the local healer who specializes in treating familiars to tell them we are bringing Dean in.

Luckily for us, Anna is the technician on duty and not Ruby. Dean could be bleeding out and would refuse to be treated by her. On second thought, Ruby might let him bleed out. Cas and I are convinced that Ruby must be a dog familiar, because of how badly she and Dean get along. You know, they fight like cats and dogs? Not important. Anna gently takes the carrier from me, not commenting on my sudden zone, which I greatly appreciate. She peers inside concernedly, as Dean hasn’t shown any signs of waking. 

“Aww, poor Dean,” she says. “Let's get you out of here and somewhere more comfortable.” We follow her into one of the examination rooms. She places the carrier on the large exam table in the middle of the room and carefully unlatches the carrier, and after checking to make sure Dean is not awake, reaches in. She grabs the towel Dean is wrapped in and carefully pulls him out. I know he hates being wrapped like that, but seeing how he still isn’t moving under his own power yet, I’m glad we did. And if he had woken up and was freaked out, at least he wouldn’t have been able to hurt himself by accident. 

Anna gently unwraps him from the towel, but doesn’t attempt to pick him up. Instead, she completes a visual examination of him, checking his pulse and temperature and breathing and whatever other measurements they take.

“Sam,” she asks, “we need to weigh him. Do you know how much the towel weighs?” 

I look at her blankly. “No.” Who knows how much a towel weighs, anyway?

Anna’s good at her job. She is completely unruffled by my short response. “No worries,” she continues. We’ll get an estimate for now, and then if Raphael wants a more accurate measurement, they’ll do it when they come in.”

Anna has just finished weighing Dean and the towel when Raphael knocks on the door.

“Come in, we’re ready, Raph!” 

Raphael carefully opens the door and comes in dressed in khakis and a blue polo. The polo is embroidered with Raphael’s logo: The Garden of Healing. They nod their head at Cas and I, and then heads to the exam table where Dean has remained, unmoving. 

“Let me in there, Anna, let me see,” they say, gently shooing Anna away from the table. They look up at Cas and I and sigh. “Why don’t the two of you wait outside, and let me examine him first, and then we’ll bring you back in?”

Before they are even finished talking, I’m shaking my head. “No, I’m not leaving him.”

“I’m not asking you to..”

“No. Absolutely not. We stay.”

Raphael closes their eyes, and nods their head. “Very well, but could you sit, please?” They gesture to the seats near the table against the far wall. I nod, and Cas and I head over there to sit. My leg bounces nervously, Cas puts his hand on it, and while he doesn’t try to still it, he does give my knee a squeeze and sends calming waves through our bond. I appreciate it, especially since I know he can’t be particularly calm at the moment either. But we both know that of the two of us, I’m the one that will end up electrocuting someone because I have excess nervous energy. Literally.

There hadn’t been any healers in most of the shitty towns where Dean and I grew up, and not even when we settled with Bobby in Sioux Falls--just regular human doctors, which worked fine for most things. After all, a broken bone is a broken bone, human, witch, or familiar. We’re not really sure what makes the Me’tai different from humans--we can cross breed, and sometimes offspring have powers--and sometimes they don’t. We don’t even understand why some children present as witches, and others as familiars. I do know that a lot of humans don’t understand our culture, and there have been major issues because of it. We aren’t naturally monogamous the way that a lot of humans are, just by the nature of our relationships--we may have romantic love for one person, but have an arcane bond--the technical term for a witch/familar bond--with another, which leads to complicated family trees, to say the least. Humans call it polyamory, but it just is how things are, as far as the Me’tai are concerned.

My phone starts vibrating, and I realize I’d drifted off. I shoot an annoyed glance at Cas, who doesn’t look put out at all. I look at the screen, it’s the daycare where our adopted son, Jack, spends his weekday mornings. We’re pretty isolated, and we want Jack to be used to other kids, so despite the fact that Cas and I work from home, we send him to daycare to get those important socialization skills. Cas is adamant, he is constantly saying how otherwise he’ll turn out awkward like him, but I like Cas just the way he is. Crap, Cas has to lay off the vibes, I can’t keep a coherent thought. Cas grabs the phone out of my hand and answers it. 

I redirect my attention to Raphael, while Cas moves to the far corner of the room to complete the call. Raphael is still examining Dean, holding their hands over him like they were warming them at a fire. I can feel the underlying thrum of Raphael’s energy, slowly pulsing through the Earth, and bending to their will. Cas comes back to the seats and resumes his place beside me. 

“Jack has a slight fever. I called Charlie to go pick him up and watch him for now.”

“Of course he does, because it never just rains, it has to pour, doesn’t it!!”

I can feel my agitation starting to rise. I’m Earth aligned, which means I’m usually pretty steady, but when I explode it’s pretty rough. Cas moves his hand to start massaging my neck muscles in an attempt to dissipate the stress I’m carrying. 

“It does Dean no good if Raphael has to throw you out because you can’t center yourself enough to let them work,” he whispers. I lean back into his hand. 

“I know, Cas, its just...I’m worried, he still hasn’t moved. What if we fucked it up and he’s not going to recover?” Anxiety begins to swirl in my chest, and I can feel nausea building in my stomach. I try to put my head between my knees, but before I can, Anna stops what she was doing and comes over and gently suggests we move to the waiting room. I’m pretty confident it wasn’t really a suggestion. Once out there, she provides us with water cups, and within a few minutes, the nausea has subsided, although the anxiety is still pounding a steady beat in my chest.

“You were catching stray magic, having sympathy reactions,” Anna says. “You should feel a little better now.” I nod, and let Cas fold me into a chair. “We’ll get you as soon as we know something, I promise, Sam.”

“I know. It’s just…” I can’t bring myself to finish. Anna nods, and with a tight smile, she turns away and heads back into the examination room. I always am left wondering if she is a witch or a familiar. You can’t always tell by looks alone, and it is very disrespectful to just come out and ask someone. Cas transforms back into his cat shape and curls up on my lap, forcing his head under my hand to encourage me to pet him. He starts purring madly, and the sensation helps calm me. I figure a little meditation to help balance me can’t hurt, so I’m ready to go whenever they tell us what’s going on with my brother.

I’m not sure how much later it is when Anna comes back out to get me. She lightly places a hand not quite on my shoulder until I become aware of her and snap into the present. I shake my head a little to clear the cobwebs, and look up at her with concern.

“Well, we figured out what’s wrong. He’s okay for now, and you can go in and see him, but we are going to have to talk to figure out a plan to help him.” Okay, that’s not the most positive response, but it beats the alternative so I’ll take it. I stand suddenly, forgetting that Cas was on my lap, and he yowls as he is suddenly displaced onto the floor. He shakes himself out, and transforms, sending me a grumpy glare. I know he isn’t seriously put out, although I do feel bad. He once dumped me off the bed to see how I liked it, and I have to admit, I was not a fan.

We walk back into the examination room, where a quick glance at the exam table shows that Dean is not there. Before I have the chance to panic, I feel Cas mentally direct my attention to a patient bed hiding in the corner, where my brother, human shaped, is laying, with some IV’s and a heart monitor.

“Hey Sammy,” he begins, as if he didn’t just faint and completely scare me.

“It’s Sam,” I correct, as I head towards him, and sit at the chair next to the bed. “What the hell, Dean, you scared the crap out of us!” I try really hard to not yell, but there are so many emotions right now it takes everything I have to try and be calm. I can feel Cas behind me, and that helps. Dean, as much as he can, seems to curl up on himself, and looks down at his hands as they fiddle in his lap.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Sam,” he replies, so quiet I can barely hear him. This disturbs me, my brother is not quiet, nor apologetic, and he never calls me Sam. I reach out to put my hand on his arm, and am even more concerned when I feel how cold he is. 

“Dean, please don’t apologize, I just want to help. Can you look at me?” I tilt my head, trying to see his face, which he has ducked down in an attempt to hide from me. He lifts his head enough to look up at me, and I can see how watery his eyes are. There are tear streaks down his cheeks. He’s clearly been crying. Raphael takes the opportunity to interrupt.

“Dean, is it alright if I explain what we’ve learned to Sam and Cas?” they ask.

Dean nods, and reaches out a hand to me. I grasp it, and then can’t stand it any longer.

“Move over,” I tell him,and as he scoots over I settle myself next to him in the bed, and he leans against me. My concern ratchets up another notch. I gently rub circles on his back and look up at Raphael, indicating he should continue. Cas grabs the chair I’d been sitting in previously.

“Dean is suffering from bond sickness.” Raphael says. Of all the things I expected Raphael to say, this...well this was not one of them.

“But...Dean…” I look between Dean and Raphael confusedly. “Dean’s not bonded?” I ask. Dean curls up into me, still not speaking, but Raphael must have sensed something, because they shift their attention to Dean.

“Do NOT transform, Dean. You don’t have the energy and I may not be able to get you back again this soon. I know you don’t want to hear this but we must talk about it.” Dean still doesn’t say anything, but I feel him nod from where he has attached himself to me. And he says I’m the octopus of the family. Cas chimes in.

“He doesn’t have an arcane bond, Sam, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have bonds. He is bonded to you, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, but...I’m his brother, I didn’t know that counted,” I reply.

“It counts,” Raphael interjects. “A familiar uses all of their bonds to keep their power focused and in balance. And when that balance is disturbed, we call it bond sickness. Something is upsetting Dean’s natural bonds.” Dean starts to whine, and I can tell he’s trying to hold back tears. He’s not holding up through this conversation at all. Anna comes up behind Raphael and looks at them. Raphael sighs. “I think Dean is a little too sensitive right now for us to really have a decent conversation. We have him on an IV to get some nutrients and liquids in him, as he is severely malnourished and dehydrated. He can go home when the IV is done, but he needs rest, food, and water...and he needs to stay in his human shape. For at least a week. Then I need to see him back here, once he’s recovered, so we can try and figure out why this is happening now, when he’s been stable for most of his adult life so far. Samuel, Castiel--it is very important you keep him from pulling away. He’s going to continue to try to, but for this week, at least, you need to keep him company.”

“I’m right here, you know, Raphael,” Dean says, voice cracking in the middle of the sentence.

“I know, Dean. I’m not trying to ignore you. I just want to make sure your brother and Castiel know how important taking care of you this week is. We talked about this, yes? That it is okay to get help when you need it? And you need it, Dean. If we don’t get this figured out, it can get serious, really quickly.” Dean nods, but doesn’t say anything else.

“Is...” I’m not really sure how to ask. “We have an adopted son--he’s five…” I trail off, still not sure what I’m trying to ask.

“That’s fine. It probably will do Dean good to be around a child. Just make sure your son…” Raphael pauses.

“Jack.” I fill in.

“Jack,” Raphael continues, “understands that Dean isn’t feeling well and sometimes may not be okay to play or will need some quiet time. Otherwise it should be fine.” I take a deep breath. Sure. It’ll be fine. I’ll just keep repeating that to myself and hoping it will be true.


	2. A Day in the Life

Every morning I wake up and Cas is next to me, I wonder what I did to deserve such a fantastic partner. After all, he not only puts up with me, but with Dean as well. Speaking of Dean, I can hear him poking around in the kitchen. After resting for the majority of the past two days, he must be feeling at least somewhat better, if he’s back to cooking--which also means that breakfast this morning is going to be bacon with a side of bacon. But at least it will be well cooked bacon. I love many things about Cas, but his cooking is not one of them. Nobody’s perfect, right? 

I carefully maneuver myself around Cas, briefly touching my lips to his forehead before throwing on some running shorts and a shirt. I poke my head in Jack’s room on my way to the kitchen, but he's not there. I’m not entirely surprised, if Jack heard Dean then he is definitely wherever Dean is. As I approach the kitchen, I can hear Dean singing loudly and off key. I enter the kitchen to find Dean swinging Jack in circles. I stand at the doorway for a minute, as Jack and Dean collapse in a pile in the middle of the kitchen, breathless with laughter. Dean looks up and sees me.

“You going for a run this morning?” he asks.

“Yup. Jack you want to come?” I ask, even though I know what the answer is going to be. Dean leans over and whispers something in Jack’s year.

“No, Sam-da. Imma stay with Unka De and help him cook!"

“Okay,” I say, “you’re sure?”

“Yup!”

“You sure you’re sure?”

“Yes!”

“Are you absolutely sure you’re sure?”

“YES!!!” Jack shreeks, frustrated with the familiar joke.

“Ohhhkaaay,” I say with pretend reluctance. "If you are reaaally sure. Can you make sure Dean makes me a shake? I don’t want to eat bacon with a side of bacon!”

“You want to eat green shit for breakfast, you can make it yourself!” Dean interrupts. While Jack and I had been interacting, Dean had gone back to cooking.

Jack turns to him, his hands at his hips. 

“Unka De, you’re not supposed to say that, its a bad word!!”

“Sorry Jack, I’m working on it kiddo,” Dean responds, as he flips a pancake.

Jack comes up to me and motions for me to kneel down. He cups his hand around my ear and whispers loudly, “Don’t worry, Sam-da, I’ll make sure he makes your shake!”

“Secrets, secrets, are no fun, secrets hurt everyone!” singsongs Dean, without turning around.

“And which of you is the adult again?” I ask.

Dean makes a show of looking around. “Nope, no adults here. Have you seen any adults, Jack?”

“Nope!” Jack exclaims, skipping to the table.

I shake my head fondly. “I’ll be back in a bit,” I say as I head towards the bunker door.

“Yea, yea, whatever, veggiesaurus,” Dean shouts at me.

“Unka De, they’re called HERBIVORES, not veggiesauruses!!”

"Whatever, kid, tomato, tomatoe. How did you become a walking thesaurus like your dad?”

I smile as I hear them bicker back and forth. I’m still thinking about Dean and Jack as I begin my run. When Cas and I had decided we wanted to adopt a kid, I was worried about how my brother would react. When Cas asked me why, I’d said I couldn’t imagine my brother with a kid. I fully deserved the full wrath of Cas’ stare when I said that.

“Sam,” he'd said incredulously, “He practically RAISED you!”

I was speechless. Good point. I didn’t bring it up again.

I wish Dean could be as open with Cas and I as he was with Jack. But he just isn’t wired that way. We’ll figure it out, I suppose, I just worry about him so much. I know Cas says it’s not my job, but, if I don’t worry about him...he doesn’t have anyone else to worry about him. Despite appearances of being outgoing and friendly, he doesn’t trust easily and tends to shy away the moment people get close.

When I return to the bunker, Dean has put Jack to work setting the table, where Cas is sitting nursing a cup of coffee. I stick my head in long enough to say hi and then off to shower and dress. When I get back the table covered with food. Dean stress cooks, so when he’s having a hard time, we get over the top meals.

In any case, I take my seat at the table, and note that, despite Dean’s threats, my preferred morning shake is sitting at my spot. Jack leans over and says “I made sure he made it, and Cas-da backed me up!” I ruffle a hand through his hair. “Thanks, bud. We’ve got to stick together.”

Dean hrumphs. “Eat, y’all, before it gets cold.”

When food eating winds down, Jack asks what the plan is for the day. He gets anxious when he doesn’t know where everyone is going to be while he is at school. It took the longest time for us to figure it out until Dean finally got Jack to explain that he worries about where we are and if we are in danger. The past couple of days he’s been a little more clingy since Charlie came to pick him up off schedule and Dean came home “sick.” 

When Charlie brought him back to the bunker that day, he investigated each of us to make sure we were all right, and was super worried about Dean. Although we put him to sleep in his room for the past two nights, at some point each night he wanders into our room for a few hours, and by the morning we found him in Dean’s room, watching him to “make sure he’s okay.” Cas had asked what he would have done if Dean wasn’t okay, and Jack responded, “Get you and Sam-da, of course!” The “duh” although unstated, was clear in his voice.

Dean goes first.

“I’m going back to work today, Jack,” he says.

“Are you sure that’s okay, Dean...” I begin

“Sam, I’m going stir crazy. The sooner I get back to routine the better. And you know Bobby won’t let me overwork--call him if you want.”

I feel Cas reach underneath the table and squeeze my hand.

* _ Don’t push* _ he sends,  _ *You know he’ll shut down* _

I acknowledge Cas mentally, and out loud I say, “I know Dean. We just care about you. That’s all.” Dean looks at me suspiciously, but changes the topic without challenging my statement.

“What about you, Jack? What do you have planned today?” he asks.

“Well….” Jack pauses. “Cas-da, what is today?”  
“Today is Thursday, Jack,” Cas replies.

“Thursday,” Jack confirms. “On Thursdays I go to school…” he looks at Cas and I for confirmation, and I nod my head. “But I don’t know how I am getting there or getting home yet. Cause Unka De usually brings me but he’s been not feeling good so Sam-da has been bringing me instead.” He turns to Dean. “Unka De, since you are going to work today, can you bring me to school?” 

Dean glances at me quickly, and I show my assent to the plan. “Yup!” he exclaims. “One Impala-ride for Jack Snack!”

Jack glares. “I’m not a snack, Unka De!!”

“Really?” Dean replies. “Cause you look awfully tasty to me!!”

“Didn’t you eat enough bacon at breakfast, Unka De?” 

“Can’t ever have enough bacon,” Dean replies, while shoving a couple more pieces in his mouth. “I have to take a shower and get dressed, will Jack be ready to go by then?” he asks.

“Sounds like a plan,” I respond.

“Sweet. See ya on the flipside, flapjack!” 

As Dean leaves the kitchen, Jack yells after him, “I’M NOT A PANCAKE, UNKA DEAN!!”

Dean’s answer floats from somewhere else in the bunker, “sure, whatever you say, squirt!”

Cas and I shake our heads, and Cas asks Jack, “How about we go get ready?”

Jack agrees, and we head off to Jack’s bedroom to get him dressed and packed for school.

******later, that afternoon*****

Tap tap tap. The sound startled me out of my reading, where I was researching about arcane bonds and finding there wasn't much helpful to Dean’s situation. Cas was lying on my desk in cat-shape, soaking up the rays of sunlight streaming through the window. I swear cats are half plant or something. Anyway, we are both equally startled and look up at the window to see a hummingbird flitting outside of the window. Somehow hummingbirds always seem impatient. I murmur the spell that will allow the hummingbird to enter. It swoops towards the dusty tome I was slogging though unsuccessfully, and drops a small scroll on top of the page I was reading. After chirping at me to make sure I have noticed the scroll, the hummingbird does a neat aerial maneuver to reverse course and flies out the window, deftly avoiding the lazy paw Cas put out as if to catch the bird. Not that he would ever harm a messenger bird, there are limits--but he likes to test them when he can.

I unroll the scroll, to find a message from Raphael. I summarize for Cas. “Raphael wants to meet up with us. He says he wants to discuss something about Dean.” I take a moment to re-read it. “Apparently without Dean present, since they noted that now would be a good time since Dean is at work.” That’s odd. And rather concerning. What could the healer want to meet with us about without Dean? Cas stretches, and jumps off my desk, transforming mid jump. I glare at him, he knows how much I hate it when he does that. I’m afraid he is going to misjudge the jump one day and fall heels over head. He usually just rolls his eyes at me condescendingly when I bring it up, so I try to resist. 

He rolls his eyes at me anyway, when I don’t get up to follow him. “I don’t know what you are waiting for, Sam,” he says. 

“You suck,” I reply.

As he reaches the doorway, he turns back to me with a smirk. “And I suck well, don’t forget it!” He continues to the next room, swaying his hips seductively. Feckin’ cat.

When we arrive at Raphael’s clinic, it is suspiciously quiet. A voice floats down the hallway. “I’m in my office, Samuel, Castiel. Come on back. Thank you for coming.”

Cas and I look at each other with concern. We head back, and as advertised, there is Raphael, sitting behind their large mahogany desk. When they see us, they huff. 

“There’s no need to look like the world is ending. I mean, technically it is, just very slowly, and not until long after we are all gone.” They shake their head. “Please, sit down. I wanted to discuss something with you and get both of your opinions.”

“Regarding Dean,” says Cas.

Raphael nods. “Yes, regarding Dean.” They pause, and seem to be collecting their words. Raphael was never one to speak superfluously, or without meaning. “I am not trying to circumvent Dean. Nor am I going to betray his confidence that he has given to me, nor ask you to betray his confidence either. But I am very concerned about why he is having issues now, after many years of stability. I don’t think this is really something that Dean can solve entirely on his own. If he is to be successful, we all are going to need to work together.”

I nod. “I understand,” I say. “But you must understand our concern when you asked us here today without Dean.”

Raphael nods. “Understandable. I hope that I will be able to assuage any fears you may have.” They pause, and when Cas and I nod in acknowledgement, they continue. “I am looking to find some information regarding the community the two of you grew up in, and Dean’s experiences with the Me’tai culture in general. I was surprised by some of his responses to my inquiries, and they were not at all what I expected, as they seemed…” they pause. “Out of line with what I know of you, Samuel,” they continue, nodding at me. “It almost seems like you were raised in two different places.”

“Well,” I respond, “in a way we were.”

“How so?”

“Mostly that Dean did most of the raising of me, since I was a baby.” Cas reaches over and puts his hand over mine,and I feel warm calming energy diffuse through my core. Cas knows how much I hate talking about my childhood. Yet, for as rough as it was for me, it was much worse for Dean. I take a calming breath before I continue. “Our mother died in a house fire when I was 6 months old. It did something to my father, he never recovered completely. He threw himself obsessively into ‘finding her killer’ and alcohol.” Raphael leaned back in their chair.

“Dean isn’t that much older than you, is he, Samuel?” they ask.

“Four years,” I reply. I can feel Cas start to rub circles in my palm. I must be showing anxiety by now.

“We can go down a different path,” Raphael says. “It is not my intention to drag up unpleasant memories.”

Cas speaks up. “Honestly,” he glances at me, “I’ve always thought that Dean carries many more scars from their childhood then Sam does--probably some that Sam isn’t aware of. Dean keeps those feelings close to his chest. If his current health problems stem back to something from their childhood, then it is worth revisiting.”

Raphael focuses on Cas. “You seem to think it is?” they ask.

“Call it a familiar’s intuition.”

“Do you ever mindspeak Dean?” Raphael asks Cas.

“Very rarely. He really only mindspeaks Sam. Familiar to familiar communication carries a lot of residual feelings and thoughts. Dean has always seemed adverse to sharing that intimacy. I’m not really aware of any familiar he is close to enough to share that with.”

Raphael mulls the information over, and then a crease appears in their brow. 

“When did the two of you formalize your bond, again?” they ask.

“About six months ago,” I reply.

“But Castiel has been living with you and Dean for longer than that, right?”

“Yes,” Cas answered. “I moved in when I finished my undergraduate work. So, that would have been…” Cas looks at me for help. Dates just aren’t his thing.

“Well, I would have been 22, then, and I’m 29 now, so, seven years?” I answer.

“And this is the first time anything like this has ever happened?” 

“Correct.”

“Please forgive the multitude of questions, however, I….think I might have an idea about what has happened, but I want to gather just a little more information before I present it to you.” Cas and I nod, and Raphael continues. “Samuel, were you and Dean around any Me’tai when you were younger? After your mother passed?”

“No. Our father moved us all over the place for a few years, until we finally settled down in Sioux Falls, North Dakota with Bobby. There were some other Me’tai there, but not many and we didn’t socialize with them. We went to human doctors--on the few occasions that warranted an actual doctor. I don’t know if our father even told them we were half Me’tai at all. He’d yell whenever he caught Dean transformed. He knew that catwings are sought after by the unscrupulous, and I don’t think he knew how to protect us, so he tried the only way he could.”

“He could have tried harder,” Cas interjects.

I sigh. “I know. Can we not have this argument now?”

“Of course. I’m sorry I didn’t meant to add extra drama.”

“I know. In anycase,” I return my attention towards Raphael, “Dean often would transform at night and sleep in my bed with me. He couldn’t help wanting to transform....”

“It is natural for Me’tai familars to want to spend time in both their forms. Dean probably has a learned behavior to automatically hide that side of himself.”

“Dean didn’t know I was a familiar at first,” Cas interjects. “We’d met and hung out before I moved in, but even after I moved in, the topic simply never came up, until one day he came home and I was in my cat shape on the sofa.”

I giggle. I couldn’t help it. That had been a funny night. “Dean came rushing into the kitchen demanding to know if I was aware there was a familiar on our couch and where did they come from, and was this some scheme of mine to force him to make friends--I was utterly confused. I didn’t realize Cas had transformed.”

“When Sam and Dean returned to the living room, and Sam explained that the catwing on the couch was me, Dean, was...the most interested I’ve ever seen him in another Me’tai before or since,” Cas continued. “After that incident was when he and I started to get to really know each other. I think--and this is pure conjecture--that he felt more comfortable because he knew I was a catwing, and so, even if not to the extent he had, understood the need to hide in some situations.” 

“Prior to that,” I pick up where Cas left off, “Any attempt to get Dean involved with any of my friends, Me’tai culture, anything--was instantly dismissed--he didn’t want anything to do with it. But after that day, if Cas and I ganged up on him, he would come with us.”

There was a slight lull in the conversation, and then Raphael spoke up. “It sounds like the three of you have built a solid relationship with each other, that has built slowly over time. Those kinds of relationships often result in the strongest bonds--familial, romantic, arcane, platonic, etcetera. My initial thoughts, after listening to your background, is that something about the bonding ceremony six months ago upset the balance between the three of you,” they see Cas and I start to protest, and hold up a hand to stop us, “OR,” they emphasize, “Dean PERCEIVES a difference in the power balance and has internalized it--so for him, it seems real--even though it may not actually be the case.”

We sit for a moment and digest Raphael’s hypothesis. I hadn’t really thought about the bonding ceremony. Dean seemed really excited for both of us, but I hadn’t gotten a sense that he was upset about it. But on second thought, it...actually makes sense. The bonding ceremony was pretty recent, and with how insecure Dean can be--it just didn’t ever occur to me that it might affect him that way. And of course, he wouldn’t communicate with me, I mean, come on, I am talking about  _ Dean _ after all. I kind of feel like I should have thought about it though, since his life tends to focus on...well...me. When did he start feeling this way? How did I miss it? I remember when we announced our bonding ceremony, he was over the top excited. Was he too excited? But he helped us with a ton of planning and helping with Jack--surely there would have been signs? I mean, right? When did it get so bad? How did we not notice? Am I that bad of a brother? Dean knows instantly when I’m having trouble with something, how is it that I can’t at least do the same for him? He’s so good at hiding his emotions, dealing with him can be so frustrating sometimes! 

“SAM!” 

“OW! Why did you pinch me?” I rub at my arm, which is now throbbing angrily, and glare at Cas.

“You weren’t listening. This isn’t your fault. It just is. Sometimes things happen and they aren’t anyone’s fault, Sam.”

“Castiel is correct, Sam,” Raphael agrees. “No one could have predicted that Dean would have internalized his emotions in this way. He probably isn’t even aware what triggered his feelings, just that now he feels off center where once he felt stable.”

“Okay,” I say, still rubbing my arm where Cas pinched me. “So, what do we do now?”

Raphael huffs. “I’m not entirely sure. If we were sure that the power balance between the three of you was upset, then the path would be more clear. But neither of you are showing any primary symptoms of power imbalance, just the reaction to Dean’s changes. Which makes me believe that the power balance hasn’t actually changed--just Dean thinks it has. That’s harder to fix, and may take a while for us to figure out. In the meantime, why don’t we keep an eye on things. I want to see Dean back here in a week, and see how he is doing, and then we’ll take it from there.”

“That sounds good. Thank you for having us come meet you. I feel a little better about the situation now,” I tell them.

“It is no problem.” He hands myself and Cas each a card. “This has my personal number on it. If there is an emergency out of normal working hours, please call me directly. It will be faster and more beneficial for everyone if I can simply come straight to you without wasting time with the after hours system.”

“That is incredibly kind of you, Raphael, thank you,” Cas replies, realizing that I’m feeling too emotional right now to continue speaking.

“It is nothing,” Raphael replies. “And calling directly if Dean has another episode like the last one can make a distinct difference in recovery. We will figure this out, I promise you both.”

“Thank you again,” Cas says, and he grabs my arm and leads me out. 


	3. The Fool on the Hill

_ What the fuck am I doing here? _ Oh, that’s right. Raphael claimed on the day I collapsed that I need to re engage my bonds with Sam and Cas. But, that’s weird-right? After all they are formally bonded, which sounds like married to me. They certainly shouldn’t have to take care of me because I am sucky Me’tai who can’t find a bond of my own. Which is how I’ve managed to be here. And here is The Trickster, a nightclub that usually has a high percentage of Me’tai customers. Although there are plenty of places where Me’tai and humans mingle freely, there are also a variety of places that cater more specifically to the Me’tai. This is one of them, and I feel like a fish out of water. Why I thought this was a good idea, I don't know. There these Me’tai social cues--my brother gets them--but I don't. And I might as well speak a different language because of it. The music is good, though, so I down a whiskey and go to the dance floor. Of course it would only go downhill from there…

She approached me from behind, which scares the living heck out of me. A rather nice looking woman--who by my best guess was probably a witch, saunters around me, her hand on my neck.

“My name’s Amara,” she says, sultrily. She must be doing something to the area, because with the loud beat of the music, I shouldn't be able to hear her voice so clearly. ̈And you, pretty boy?”

I dunno if its because of my long term stint in my cat shape or just my instincts, but I can feel a phantom sensation of my fur bristling.

¨Dean,” I say, taking a step away from her, and pushing her hand away. ¨It’s nice to meet you, but I'm just interested in dancing.” I step backwards, trying to get out of her sphere of influence. Although she allows me to shake her hand off, she steps into my personal space.

̈Oh, youŕe a special one, aren't you, Dean?” she asks.

Fuck. Can she sense my form? Fuckity fuck. Catwings have a black market value, we are rare and highly prized by unscrupulous witches. It was one of many reasons John--my father--didn't let me change much when I was younger. Cas was lucky to find my brother when he did. I back away slowly. 

“Listen, it’s been nice, really...but I need to go ̈

Now I know I feel the hairs on the nape of my neck rise up--she was prepping a spell, and I could sense it. I transformed, since my magical defenses are stronger in my animal shape. I didn't transform fast enough, though, and suddenly I feel disoriented and dizzy. I had to get out of here before she scooped me up--never get taken to a second location, Dean! I yowled and bared my teeth, fluffing my fur and spreading my wings, making it clear I was not consenting to her advances.

Amara tried to play it off, cooing and bending down like she was trying to console me. As her hand...hands? I couldn't actually tell, everything was doubles--I hissed and swiped at her hand. I ducked past her and ran, no real destination other than away. I saw a light area and ran towards it--whether a window or door, it was most likely a way OUT.

Suddenly, I hit a wall. I stumble back, trying to regain the couple of unscrambled senses I had. The first thing that came into focus was a pair of shoes. Shoes? Why did the wall have shoes? That didn't make any sense! Before I could consider the shoe walls more, I heard a vaguely familiar voice call my name. Fuck, now I’m hallucinating a talking wall with feet. I’m not getting out of this, am I?

I felt arms surround me, and I tried to resist and struggle, but at this point the spell must have been in full effect, because I felt like I was fighting through jello. The wall lifted me to its head. The wall had a head? What the fuck? Not only did the wall have a face, but it was the familiar face of Cas‘ older brother, Gabriel.

_ *Gabriel,* _ I sent,  _ *when did you get turned into a wall?* _

“Wow, she really did a number on you, huh? Let's get you out of here and somewhere quiet and see if we can get you taken care of.”

I didn't want to relax, I really didn't, but Gabriel was Cas’ brother and the similar thrum of their magics informed my defenses that it was safe and could shut down. So that’s what I did.

*****Meanwhile, at the Bunker…*****

Sam and I were in the middle of some personal bonding time when my phone rang. I paused in the middle of my ministrations and leaned over to check my phone. Sam grunted unhappily when I stopped messaging his back. *sigh* “It’s Gabe,” I say. 

“Ignore it.”

I toss my phone back onto the side table and resettle myself, straddled across Sam’s hips, and returned to working out the knots in between his shoulder blades. My phone rings again, and Sam tenses up. Fuck, we can’t have one night? I reach back to my phone and flip it to silent. “There. No more interruptions.” Sam sighs in relief, relaxing again. We continue mostly in silence, with the occasional exhale or direction from Sam. We’ve both been so wound up worrying about Dean, we’ve needed a few moments to ourselves. Sam especially. He worries so much about his brother--it would be easier if Dean would talk like a regular person, then Sam would worry less. Sam has tried to get Dean to associate with other Me’tai, but it seems I’m the only one Dean has taken a liking too. As a result, other than Sam, I am probably the only other person who understands Dean’s particular issues. We’re not sure why, if he really liked me or if we both happened to be catwings and I had information he wanted. However, trying to talk to him about anything emotional is like talking to a brick wall. 

My thoughts are interrupted by the shrill sound of Sam’s phone.

“For God’s Sake!” Sam exclaims, supporting himself on his elbows to lift his torso, and almost toppling me off his back as a result. When I regain my balance, I reach across to silence Sam’s phone, to realize that it is also my brother.

“Sam, it’s Gabe--I’d better answer it.” 

I swipe the lock screen and say, “Gabe?”

“Cas, I’m not going to ask why you’re answering Samshine’s phone and not your own, but I have a catwing here that you both are fond of, and he’s been hit with some kind of disorienting spell.”

“Dean? What the hell was he doing at your club?” Sam turns over to look at me while I talk to Gabe, and I move so I am laying against his back. 

“Beats me, but Amara tried to get her hooks in him. Luckily, I ran into him. Well, technically, he ran into me, but, whatever, that’s not important. He’s taking a nap on a blanket in my office. No long term effects that I can see, but you know that’s not really my forte”

“Shit. Okay, one of us will come and get him” Fuck, what the hell was Dean thinking, going out like that when he was still recovering? Probably trying to “fix” everything himself. Sam had turned himself towards me and was looking at me expectantly as I hung up the phone with Gabe.

“Dean showed up at The Trickster,” I said, and then relayed what Gabe had told me. 

Sam sighed and rested his head on my shoulder. “So which of us is going to rescue him?” Sam asks.

I card my hands through Sam’s hair and take stock of his power levels. They’re still pretty low. 

“You stay here” I tell him. “I’ll go get him. You need the rest and he’ll be less embarrassed if I go.”

“I don’t know how you expect me to relax without knowing if my brother is alright,” Sam growls.

I move my hand to the back of his neck and massage gently.

“Here’s what we are going to do. I’m going to make you a cup of tea, you are going to drink it, and by the time you are done, I’ll have seen Dean and can confirm he’s alright, I’ll text you and then you will sleep.” Sam grumbles incoherently at me, clearly not pleased with my plan. 

“It’s not your responsibility to take care of your brother, you know that, right?”

“I do know that, Cas, it's just…”

“Yea. I know. I wish we could get him to relax and just...accept the comfort we can give him.”

“Me too. But Dad...he really did a number on Dean, you know? And Dean raised me, mostly...it’s just...hard.”

“I know,” I soothe him through our bond. I'm going to get the tea and then get our errant catwing and bring him home.”

“Check on Jack, on your way back?”

“Of course.” I climb over him, since I've ended up against the wall, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before I leave the room. Sam mumbles his acknowledgement, and I head to the kitchen to make his tea, sticking my head in Jack’s room, checking to make sure he was sound asleep, and he was.

*****Later at The Trickster…******

When I woke up again, I was curled up on a blanket that had been squished up into a bed. I blearily looked around. Still in cat shape, I was in some type of office. I could hear a quiet whispering coming from somewhere beyond the room I was in, but I couldn't identify the voices. I try to stand, but even with my wings extended I am not able to balance, and fall back on the bed with a quiet thump.

“Mrow?” I inquire, not really sure who is there, beyond the general feeling of safety I still couldn't quite place. The voices stop, and I hear the distant “thump thump” of shoes on hardwood. I watch blurrily as feet come into view, and come closer. One set of feet I recognise as belonging to the Gabe-wall. The others look familiar, but I can’t quite place them. There is a hand stuck in front of my face, and I sniff cautiously. Familiar scent. Rain. Vaguely smells like my brother, books and earth. But my brain was still having trouble connecting the scent to the “person.” I rub up against the hand to say I accept, and suddenly I find myself surrounded by appendages and slowly lifted off the blankets and hugged against a warm chest. The familiar, yet still unidentified person starts stroking my head gently, giving quality skritches behind my ears. 

“Well, Dean” an equally familiar voice says, “it looks like you’ve slept most of it off. Let’s get you home so you can sleep the rest off, somewhere familiar, at least.” Like someone turned on a light switch in my brain, I suddenly recognise the rumbling voice as Cas.

I mean to ask “Is my brother here,” but I forgot I was cat shaped, and all that came out was a plaintive “mrow?”, so I attempt the question mind to mind.

“No, Dean,” Cas says out loud. "Sam’s still sat the bunker. I texted him, though, to let him know you’re alright.”

* _ Thank Fuck, _ * I think, not anyone in particular, and startle when Cas and Gabe laugh.

“Sorry Dean,” Cas apologizes, “you’re broadcasting.”

* _ Home. Now. _ * is my only response.

“Yes, of course, Dean,” Cas replies, and I can hear the smirk in his voice. Whatever, I just want to be safely back in the bunker, in my room, far away from this club and strange witches.


	4. Hey Jude

When I had recovered myself enough to think through things, I found myself back at the clinic, awaiting Raphael to finish with their last patient. I’d asked to come in when he was done for the day, because honestly, I wanted to talk without feeling like I was potentially keeping them from their other patients. Plus, I know Raphael lets their assistants go home once the last patient of the day has arrived, and I’d rather not run into Ruby while I’m here. Bond sickness is probably not an acceptable excuse for murdering someone. I hope I’m not keeping them from a nice relaxing evening, but at least I am only inconveniencing them, and not also their patients. It makes it a little better, at least in my odd sense of logic.

Finally, Raphael comes to the waiting room and waves me back. We walk past the examination rooms and enter a room just past them. It appears to be Raphael’s personal office, with a multitude of books stacked haphazardly on the shelves. The books’ leather covers and yellowed pages make them look old and important. Somehow there are more plants than a jungle, yet the office doesn’t seem crowded, just calming. They gesture to a seat in front of the desk, so I sit, and carefully watch as Raphael makes their way past the piles of books to settle into the large office chair behind the desk.

“How are you feeling, Dean?” Raphael asks. “You didn’t come here asking for a checkup, so I thought this might be a better environment for this meeting?” They pause, waiting for my answer.

“Yeah, probably,” I reply, when it becomes obvious they are going to do that,  _ “I’m going to wait for you to talk and we are going to sit in uncomfy silence until then”  _ shtick. I describe my disastrous experience at The Trickster, and Raphael sits there and listens. I'm not usually a fan of sharing my thoughts out loud, but I can't deny it's pretty nice to have someone just LISTEN, without interrupting to give their advice. When I finish, Raphael is silent for a few moments, and then lets out a deep breath.

“Dean,” they ask, “can you describe for me where you grew up?”

That...was NOT what I was expecting. “Well, we started out in Lawrence, Kansas, but eventually ended up in Sioux Falls, North Dakota--went to school, yada yada, worked as a mechanic until Sam graduated and got into Stanford’s magic division, and then we moved out to Palo Alto. Sam met Cas while he was finishing up his law degree, and then we moved here so Sam and Cas could start practicing together.”

“And what did you do, while your brother was in school?”

_ Uggh, what was this 20 questions? _ “I dunno. I highlighted as a human and did odd jobs--cars, construction, basically any manual labor I could get my hands on.”

“Did you ever go out with your brother? Mingle with his college friends?”

“No. I didn't belong in that crowd. My brother, he’s a genius, he’s awesome, I’d have stuck out like a sore thumb.”

“Hmm. We’ll come back to that. You never wished to continue your education? Or even get a certificate in a skill?”

I shrug. “I’ve always been worried about Sammy. He’s the important one.”

Raphael sighs. “Would it be safe to say that throughout your life, you have been surrounded by more humans than others of your own kind?”

I’d never really thought about it that way. “Yeah, I guess so. Why?” 

“Because I have a potential solution I want to suggest, but I am concerned that you are going to reject it because you have developed a cultural norm that is closer to your typical human than your typical Me’tai. And I think it is part of why you are having so much difficulty right now.”

I look at them skeptically. 

They look at me back.

I hate that this method works, and I KNOW they are doing it on purpose and it STILL works and it is so frustrating!!!! “Well, nothing else seems to be working, so I guess lay it on me.”

Raphael huffs, and gently smiles. “One of the largest differences between Me’tai and humans is who we consider ‘worthy’ of a bond.” He pauses, but I gesture at them to continue. “While humans seem to put the most value on romantic love above all others, the Me’tai put equal value on all love.” They must see the skeptic look on my face increase, because Raphael nods and adds, “I know this seems out there to you, but I’m just asking you to give it a chance. Can you do that?”

I shrug. “I’m listening.” I don’t really understand where they are going with this, what do they mean, other love? I don’t...get it. But I’ll try. I put on my best,  _ ‘Yes Sammy, I’m listening’  _ face and focus on what they are saying.

“Traditionally, the Me’tai prescribe to seven different types of love. But I want to focus on just five: eros, arcane, philia, storge, and pragma. Eros,” he continues, “is closest to what humans consider romantic love, when combined with a sexual relationship.” I nod, okay, sure, but where are they going with this? “Arcane is the bond between witch and familiar, philia is the love between friends, storge is the love between a parent and a child, and pragma is love founded on reason, or duty.”

“This is a great lecture Raphael, but how does this help me?” I try really hard to control it, but I am pretty sure that my impatience is beginning to show in my voice.

“Please stay with me a little longer Dean. I promise this is going somewhere. You have strong ties with philia, storge, and pragma, but seem to only put any weight in a relationship founded on eros. Creating a bond that will help stabilize your familiar self doesn’t require eros. But you do not seem to be willing to accept this as a solution.”

I blink, not really comprehending what the healer is telling me. “I get the philia and arcane stuff, and maybe the pragma thing, but what’s this storge thing? I don’t have any kids, maybe you missed that?” I can hear the attitude in my voice, and I grimace internally. I know they are trying to help me, I just don’t understand how this is supposed to help. Yet, Raphael doesn’t seem to have lost their patience with me, which is why I suppose they are the healer and I’m the mechanic.

“I know your mother passed away when you and Sam were very young. And that your father was away a lot for work, isn’t that correct?” 

I unconsciously growl, deep in my throat, I feel threatened he knows this much about my family. “How do you know that?” I ask, beginning to stand.

Raphael motions for me to sit, and after a slight hesitation, I do. “Do you think you are the only Winchester I have ever talked to in this fashion?” he asks.

“Sammy comes to talk to you?” I’m flabbergasted. “What could he have to talk about, he’s got everything!” I start to fret, worrying that I’ve missed something important.

“It has nothing to do with you, Dean. Everyone needs an impartial observer to bounce ideas off of sometimes. Even Samuel.” He tilts his head and waits for me to digest/process the information.

I take a deep breath. Okay. That makes sense. Sam likes to talk about stuff, and I get the whole talking to someone new to get a different perspective thing. 

“Okay, I get that--but what do MY parents have to do with my storge?”

“Well,” Raphael responds, “How often were you left in charge of Samuel?”

“A lot I suppose? Dad was gone--sometimes for weeks at a time.”

“And would it be fair to say you acted as Samuel’s parent, when your father wasn’t there?”

“Even when he was there, honestly,” I grumble.

“So Samuel is not just connected to you as your brother--but as your son as well. And, since your brother and Castiel are bonded arcanely and romantically, Castiel is also tied into your connection with your brother as well.”

“That’s stupid, Cas isn’t my brother or my son or anything!”

Raphael sighs and leans back in his chair.

“Maybe not consciously, but your magic recognises Castiel as family. You don’t need to be related to someone in order for them to be family, you know.”

“That sounds like something my Uncle Bobby says: ‘Family don’t end in blood.’”

“Bobby Singer?” Raphael asks. 

“Yeah, you know him?”

“I do. He is a fine mechanic.”

“Agreed, I work for him. He moved out here with us, even though I said he didn’t have to.”

“More often than you think, Dean, people do things because they want to, not because they ‘have to.’” Raphael pauses. “In any case, it sounds like you understand what I’m trying to tell you then?”

“I guess--does that explain my reaction to Gabriel at The Trickster?

“Most likely. Gabriel’s magical signature is probably similar to Castiel’s. Siblings usually are.

“I just don’t get how all these bonds exist. Can’t I get my magic to back off and accept the bonds shouldn’t be there??”

Raphael shakes their head at me. They kind of look like they want to laugh at me. I narrow my eyes suspiciously.

“No, Dean, it’s the other way around--that’s what I’ve been trying to get at--your magic is trying to get you to accept and lean into the bonds you have--and when you push them away, your magic becomes unbalanced--the symptoms of which we call ‘bond sickness.’”

“But how is that normal? Sam and Cas are bonded!”

“Which is often described to humans like being married, but really, Me’tai culture doesn’t have a concept of marriage as a monogamous institution, as it so often is in human cultures--quite the opposite, in fact. Most Me’tai carry multiple bonds with different Me’tai--it happens that Samuel and Castiel are both arcanely and romantically bonded, but that is not always the case. A Me’tai may have an arcane bond with one Me’tai and a romantic bond with another.” He pauses. “Which brings us back to the beginning of our discussion. You can have bonds with Samuel and Castiel without disturbing the bonds they have with each other. Samuel and Castiel aren’t shutting you out. You’re shutting them out--and if you continue, your bond sickness is going to get worse.”

“I don’t know if I feel comfortable with that, Raphael--I feel like I’m intruding because I’ve been a failure at finding a bond of my own.”

“Have you ever considered you haven’t bonded with anyone else because your needs have been met with the bonds you already have? And that Samuel and Castiel gain something from their bond with you, and would probably feel incomplete if you withdrew completely?”

“Well, no.”

“Dean, how you see yourself and how you actually are don’t line up.”

I jerk back, offended. 

“What?? How is that possible?”

“Can I tell you what I see?”

“I guess, I just don’t see the point.” I scrunch down in my chair. I am not liking this conversation one bit. I just want to go home and hide in my room for a month. 

“All I ask is you listen and tell me if I speak any mis-truths. Can you do that?” It’s like they  _ know _ what I’m thinking. Creepy.

“I suppose,” I agree, reluctantly.

“Excellent. I see, sitting in my office, a resourceful young Me’tai who has acted as not just a brother, but also a father to his younger sibling. Not only were you responsible for a large portion of raising him, you also supported him through college and law school. And, while we are on that topic, despite so many odds stacked against you, you found and learned a trade that you are successful at and enjoy, and are able to continue to contribute to your household’s income, while also cultivating a familial relationship with your brother’s adopted son.”

“It doesn’t sound so worthless when you say it like that!”

“It shouldn’t sound worthless when you say it, either. Dean, there are people in similar situations to yours who have completely failed at making a life for themselves. But you have not only survived--you have thrived, and you should be proud of that fact.

“You make it sound so easy--but it isn’t”

“No, not at first. You’ve been listening to that negative voice in your head for decades. It’s going to take a while to retrain yourself to stop listening. Time, patience, and being kind to yourself.”

“I just want everything to be fixed so I can move on with my life!” 

“”Dean, you aren’t broken--you are GROWING--there is a distinct difference!”

“I guess.”

Raphael is silent for a moment, then pulls out a pad of paper and a pen.

“I want you to write your accomplishments on this paper. You didn’t argue with any of the events I mentioned, so those are a good place to start.”

I roll my eyes at getting “classwork,” but I follow their instructions. Can’t hurt, right? I finish writing, and hand the paper back to them. They fold it up, places it in a ziplock bag, and hand it back to me.

“You aren’t going to read it?” I ask, as I take it back from them. “What did I write those down for, then?”

Raphael smiles. “The note wasn’’t a test. And it’s not for me--it’s for you. When you start hearing that negative voice, I want you to pull this out and read it until you can’t hear the voice anymore.

“What’s with the plastic bag,” I ask as I shake the baggie for emphasis.

“So when you accidentally wash it, you won’t ruin the list.”

“Sounds like you’ve done this before.”

Raphael smiles. “Something like that.”


	5. Here Comes the Sun

_ When I leave The Healing Garden, I feel settled, but once I get back to the bunker, all of my insecurities wake my anxiety up and I can feel my stress increase. I hate that I am burdening Sam and Cas with this, it isn’t their fault I’m broken. I start pacing, trying to wear out my sudden influx of nervous energy--but I can’t control it--I feel jumpy in my own skin. Why won’t my brain stop? _

_ I try to sit on the couch and watch TV. But I can’t focus enough--not even on Dr. Sexy. It's just not interesting! I get up and start pacing again. I can’t ask my brother and Cas to do this, it's WEIRD...and I’m an adult, I should be able to figure this out myself, right? _

**************

Cas and I were returning from the grocery store, and noticed that Baby was in the driveway. “I thought Dean was going to be home late,” Cas asks.

“Yea, I thought so too--he said he had somewhere to go after work,” I reply. We’d thought we were going to get some alone time, so we had arranged for Charlie to pick Jack up from school and babysit him for a few hours.  _ Fuck. _

We walked in to find Dean pacing restlessly in the living room.

“Dean?” I ask, when Dean doesn’t acknowledge our entrance. Unfortunately, it startles the hell out of him and he hisses and backs himself into a corner. He’s always had a bad reaction to being startled, but it concerns me how feral he’s been since the incident that brought us to Raphael. Cas and I freeze, hoping Dean realizes we don’t mean any harm. I’ve been on the other side of Dean’s claws, and he keeps them sharp!

“Sammy?” he asks, sounding confused. “Yeah, Dean,” I answered. “Cas and I were at the grocery store...buying...groceries…”  _ Well done, Sam.. _

“Sorry, I was super focused and you startled me.” He pulls himself out of the corner and collapses on the couch. “I’m sorry, I’m fine, I’m just…” he trails off, as he puts his head in his hands and then between his knees. My brother is emitting a serious amount of emotional energy--more than is healthy. We need to get him calmed down--preferably without drugs or alcohol. Cas and I glance at each other. Cas is definitely better at this than me, mostly because Dean puts up big brother walls whenever I try to help him with anything.

“I’m going to go...put away the groceries,” I say, completely aware of how transparent that statement sounds. I duck out of the living room quickly to the safety of the kitchen, leaving Dean and Cas alone in the living room.

******************************

I approach Dean carefully. He is unpredictable like this, and if he feels threatened, he’ll close down and hide and we’ll lose all the ground we've gained. “Dean,” I say, softly. When he acknowledges, I continue. 

“May I sit?”

“Sit?” he parrots.

“Yeah. On the couch--or I can sit on the recliner, if that’s better.”

“No, couch is fine.” 

So I sit.

I’ve known Dean as long as I’ve known Sam, and when you date a brother who is as close to his sibling as Sam is to Dean, you get to know the other brother just as well. I know if I just wait long enough, Dean will talk. He can’t stand the silence. It’s the well tested  _ “Sam Winchester technique for getting Dean to Talk” _ method.

“I hate when you do that, you know,” he says after a few minutes. I try to suppress my smile, and I’m not sure I was successful. He doesn’t call me on it, so I guess he’s accepted his fate.

“Do what?” I ask, innocently.

“THAT,” he responds, with a flourish to encompass the whole room.

I tilt my head as if I have no idea what he is talking about, and he shoves me playfully. “You know exactly what I mean, stop being dense on purpose, Cas!”

There are the beginnings of an actual smile, so I continue. It’s a well worn game between the two of us. “I cannot change my density at will, Dean.”

“Oh, for crying out loud, Cas!” he mutters, and the shove turns into a couple of minutes of actual play wrestling on the couch. We eventually subside, and Dean leans back against the couch and lets out a deep breath. “I talked to Raphael today after work,” he begins, looking up at the picture above the recliner. The picture is our first family portrait, taken right after we brought Jack home. Dean is in the middle, carrying Jack on his hip, looking at him fondly, and Sam and I are framing him on either side, our hands clasped together in front of Dean. I let him, I know this is hard, and if I try to make him maintain eye contact, he’s only going to get frustrated with me. “I know...you ...um...and Sam...talked with them….” he waves absentmindedly at the kitchen, where I’m sure Sam is carefully not-listening to our conversation. I ping Sam, to let him know that Dean saw Raphael, and Sam sends back relieved vibes.  _ *That’s where he ‘had to go’ after work? _ Sam asks.  _ *It appears so,*  _ I reply.  _ *Awesome, keep him talking.* _ _ *My specialty,*  _ I respond.

Outloud I ask, “And how did that go?” Dean shrugs.

“Okay, I suppose. He asked a lot about...umm...growing up...and stuff..” He shrugs, uncomfortable with the topic, so I’m quick to reassure him.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you are uncomfortable with, Dean. Sam and I just want to help you however we can--but you have a right to your privacy--always.”

“I know, Cas,” Dean says. “But I think...I think I need to talk about this--even though it's hard. Otherwise I don’t think it’s going to get better--and listen--I know--you’re gonna talk to Sam--I kinda expect it--I...It’s hard to...talk to him...I know he wants to help I just…” Dean stops, struggling to breathe.

“S’ok, Dean. I understand. Sam understands. Take a couple of deep breaths. Take your time. There’s no rush, we aren’t going anywhere.” While I watch Dean as he calms himself, I open my link with Sam fully and leave it open. Sam sends a questioning ping, and I tell him Dean has allowed me to share our conversation, and as far as I’m concerned, why wait? Getting Sam’s input in the moment will be helpful to say the least. I can feel Sam settle in a chair and turn his focus into me. I can share my senses with him, but it takes more concentration then relaying information via regular telepathy. Once I feel Sam is relaxed, I turn my attention back to Dean.

“Raphael thinks I should try...and...I dunno...closer to you? But I don’t understand how he thinks that's going to, I mean,” he shakes his head. “I’m me, and Sam’s my brother, and you’re his-well, everything. I mean how do I just insert myself into that?” He huffs frustratedly. “They think that I’m accidentally doing this to myself because I don’t feel comfortable with I dunno, they talked some crap about different kinds of relationships. I tried to follow, I really did, but I just..I’m not sure I really get it.”

“I think you’re overthinking it Dean. Raphael means well, but sometimes he forgets he isn’t talking to other healers. That’s why Anna is such a good counterpoint for him.” I shake my head. “Not my point. Look at that portrait, Dean, what do you see?”

Dean shrugs. “Me holding Jack and you and Sam? Is this a trick question?”

I huff, amused. “No, not a trick question. Can I tell you what I see?”

“I assume you see something different, cause otherwise we’re going around in circles, here.”

“I do.” Dean gestures for me to continue. “I see my family. I don’t see  _ my family and also Dean, _ I see my family, which happens to  _ include _ Dean. If you were removed from the picture, it would be impossible to fill the space you inhabit in our lives. It doesn’t matter that Sam and I have a piece of paper formalizing our bond. You are just as equally our family. I feel that way, and Sam feels that way.”

"How does me fitting into a picture have anything to do with this bond sickness thing? And how do I fix it?"

I really want to whack Dean in the back of the head for being dense, but it's not really what he needs right now. Sam chimes in through our bond:  _ *He needs to understand that he's pulling on the bonds because he thinks he doesn't belong, and that's why the bond sickness is occurring.* _ I can tell Sam is trying to hide how much Dean's pain hurts him, but I sense it anyway.

"It has everything thing to do with the bond sickness, Dean. You think you don't belong, so you are pulling yourself away. We all can work together to repair them--you don't have to go through this alone." I can tell Dean is preparing to object, and I try to head him off before he can get rolling. " I know you've had to depend on yourself for most of your life. Your father was not dependable, and Sam was depending on you. But you aren't alone anymore, Sam isn't a child any longer. You can lean on us. Together the three of us are so much stronger then we are apart. Why does a good stool have three legs, Dean?"

"It will never be wobbily," Dean grudgingly admits.

"Exactly. Same is true for us. The three of us are more stable together on our worst day then we could ever be on our best day alone."

"I don't know how to let go," Dean says, collapsing into the couch.

"Well it isn't an all or nothing scenario, Dean. Why don't we start with you and I spending more time together, and when you feel comfortable, Sam can join us. Me'tai are naturally tactile beings! We need physical contact that you've been denying yourself. We could Netflix and snuggle!"

“Cas, I’m not--snuggling with you! You’re my brother’s familiar--and partner--its not...right!”

I sigh. Of course Dean saw it that way.   
“Would it be easier in our cat shape?” I ask, desperately trying to get Dean to agree. “We've both relaxed with Sam on the couch--what do you think?” I saw his hesitation.. I almost had him.

“Maybe,” he answers grudgingly. 

“It can’t hurt, right? No one needs to know--except us--and maybe Raphael if you decide to share. But that’s just it, Dean, you have control here.” Dean let out a deep breath, and stared at the floor by his feet.

“I know, Cas, that’s part of the problem. I’ve always had to do everything for someone else--I’ve never really made decisions for me--and...that feels really uncomfortable.” Dean curls his legs up onto the couch as he says this, still keeping his eyes firmly on the spot on the floor. I shift into my cat shape and slink onto Dean’s lap. He startles, I assume lost in thought and not really paying attention to me any more.

“Cas, what?....” he trailed off, as I did my best cat impersonation and curled up in his lap before he could react. I butt my head against his hand to encourage him to pet me. I really want to reach out mind to mind, but I’m stretching it as it is, and I don’t need him to clam up on me. Dean glares at me, reluctantly pets me. He is vibrating with stress. No wonder he’s been having trouble. I try to regulate my breathing and start to purr. I’d much rather be on his chest, but one step at a time. I don’t want to take any steps back, and the trust Dean is giving me right now is tentative, at best. Slowly, I can feel some of Dean’s anxiety start to release. I leave myself lightly shielded, to be open to accepting some of the energy, without actively pulling it. Hopefully, Dean will eventually accept the offer, but for now, passive is the way to go. He’s so used to taking care of everyone else, he’s forgotten how to take care of himself. Sam doesn’t entirely understand. He tries but he’s been shielded from much of it--by Dean--that it makes it that much harder for Sam to understand what Dean has been through. Dean shifts his weight, and I almost tumble out of his lap as he curls up on the couch, almost asleep. I carefully adjust myself so I am lying next to him, up by his chest…(success!) and I can’t help my pleased purr when Dean drops his arm down and curls it around me. 

*************

Gabe stops by a few days later, supposedly to catch up with Cas, but my personal opinion is he came over to check on Dean. Familiars aren’t the only ones with intuition! When he knocks on the front door, our protective runes recognise him and unlock the door, alerting me in the process.

I’m curled up on one end of the sofa, and Dean and Cas are in their catwing form at my feet. Cas is literally on my feet, and Dean is stretched out along much of the rest of the couch, taking up as much space as possible. I can hear Jack, playing legos in his room down the hall, giving us some needed adult time. Since the day when we came home from the grocery store to Dean’s panic attack, things have smoothed out some. Dean has stopped hiding in his room, and is spending more time with us. We visited with Raphael again, all three of us, so they could help us become aware of the feeling of our mental bonds with each other--Dean complaining the entire time about meditation hoodoo (says the one who can transform into a catwing). Despite his loud complaints, he still worked with us. Now that I know what I am looking for, I realize that Dean’s presence was absent from my magical bonds--I’m not sure if I really noticed the absence until Raphael drew my attention to the Bond's presence, but I have noticed as the bond has reasserted itself, that my magic has been more focused and everything feels more balanced. Everything isn’t perfect, of course, but we haven’t gotten any late night calls from Gabe, either. Speaking of Gabe…

“We’re in the living room!” I call out.

* _ Sitting room _ * Cas corrects.

“Whatever. Room with chairs and sofa and TV.”

“I’ve always been partial to ‘family room’ myself,” Gabe chimes in as he enters the room.

* _ I don’t care what you call it, you are all crazy loud and disturbing my nap, _ * Dean complains. That’s another change: Dean is more willing to speak with us mind-to-mind, even when he is human shaped.

“Oh, well, I see I’ve interrupted nap time, not mind if I join you all?” Gabe asks.

* _ Gabriel, you’d sleep 24/7 if you could figure out a way, _ * grumbles Cas.

Gabriel shrugs. “He’s not wrong.”

Gabe sits on the opposite end of the couch, causing Dean to slide towards him, and he mrows in protest.

“Sorry dude, but you know I can’t make it onto the couch from the floor after I transform”

If Dean responds, he only does so to Gabriel. In one moment, Gabriel is sitting on our sofa. The next moment, right where Gabriel sat, there is a platypus. The indent made by Gabe’s weight releases, once again disturbing Dean who mrows at Gabe and pretend swipes at his bill.

Gabe slowly inches over to Dean, and hooks his bill under Dean’s chin. How a platypus can have puppy dog eyes, I don’t know, but Gabe manages. I can sense Dean’s irritation, but I also know its all for show. He really doesn’t mind. Dean shifts and resettles on his side, and Gabe turns around a couple of times and settles himself in a platypus ball between Dean’s front and rear legs, making a pillow out of Dean’s body. 

_ *Now I’m going back to sleep! _ * Dean complains. * _ Be quiet! _ *

I roll my eyes. “It’s getting to be a menagerie in here, I should charge admission.”

* _ Whatever, you love it, Bitch!* _

“Uggh, you’re such a Jerk, Dean! Go to sleep!”  
*_I would but you keep talking to me!_*

I laugh. “Okay, okay, point taken.” I look at the assortment of familiars on the sofa, and soak in the moment. I’m sure there are going to be many more bumps along the way, but our little family is going to weather them just fine. I can feel it.


	6. Epilogue:  And in the End...The Love You Take...is Equal to the Love...You Make

When Sam-da asked me what I wanted to do for my birthday, there was no question. I wanted to fly a kite. My teacher read us a book and the family went to the park and flew a kite at the end. That sounded like fun, and I had never flown a kite before! Sam-da said we could have a picnic and invite a bunch of people but I just wanted it to be my people. My new family--Sam-da and Cas-da and Unka De and Unka Gabe. I worried sometimes about forgetting my first family, and told Unka De about it. He said not to worry, I'd never forget them. I trust him, he knows. 

Unka De insisted on driving, he said there was no way we were arriving to the park in some foreign plastic piece of...umm...well, he said a bad word there, I'm working on getting Unka De to say less bad words. 

We all piled into the car, Unka De driving, (of course) and Sam-da in the passenger seat, me in my booster in the middle of the back seat, with Cas-da on one side of me and Unka Gabe on the other. I like it, it feels right. All my people are where they belong. 

When we get to the park, I'm confident that Sam-da has magic'd the trunk so it is bigger on the inside. Unka De says no, though, he'd never let anyone mess with his Baby like that. I watch excitedly as Sam-da and Cas-da pull out a giant cooler, a plaid picnic blanket, a real actual picnic basket, and most importantly, a shiny green dragon kite with an awesome dangling tail. Unka De helped me pick it out!

Suddenly everything gets darker. I can just barely see the plaid pattern from the picnic blanket. "Hey! Lemme out!!" I shout. 

I hear Unka De ask, "Has anyone seen Jack?" 

"I'm right here!!" I yell, jumping up and down as best I can. 

Then I hear Sam-da say, "nope, all I see is this here plaid ghost," and he puts his hand on top of my head. 

"It's me, Sam-da, Jack!! I'm right here, I'm not a ghost!!" 

"Huh, I thought I heard something, like the ghost is trying to speak to us, I dunno what it's trying to say, though," I hear Unka Gabe chime in. 

"What are you doing? Where's Jack?" I hear Cas-da's voice. 

"We dunno," Unka De says. "There's just this plaid ghost."

"Seriously, Dean?" I hear Cas-da say. 

The picnic blanket is pulled off of me, and Sam-da stares down at me in shock. "Jack, how did you get under there? We thought you were a ghost!". 

I glare at Sam-da. "You knew it was me!!" 

Unka De bursts out laughing. "Oh boy, does he have your bitch face down pat!!" he says.

"Unka De!" I turn my glare at him. 

"Haha, sorry kiddo.” He ruffles my hair. It feels good. “Let's go get all this set up!"

I set off to explore the park while the grownups set up. There is a playground nearby, so I jump on a swing and practice swinging by myself while I wait. They finally call me over and Unka De shows me how to get my kite into the air. Sam-da and Cas-da are setting out the picnic blanket (over the grass instead of over me, thank goodness!) and taking items out of the cooler and picnic basket. I dunno where Unka Gabe is..and suddenly I jump when Unka De yells.

I turn around, and find that Unka Gabe has dumped a pail of water over Unka De’s head. Unka De HATES being wet. Unless he’s taking a shower, and Sam-da says that even then Unka De takes the shortest showers of anyone he knows. Unka Gabe transforms, since the grass is a little high, and now he is much harder to see. Unka De transforms too, and starts chasing Unka Gabe. A sudden gust of wind almost pulls my kite from my hands, and I cry out for help. Sam-da comes over and helps me keep hold of my awesome dragon kite. My Sam-da is the best! I hug his leg, and watch as Unka De chases Unka Gabe. Unka Gabe is currently trying to hide unsuccessfully behind Cas-da, and Unka De pounces and almost gets him. But Unka Gabe runs away before Unka De can actually grab him. The first time Unka De and Unka Gabe got into one of these fights, I was super worried, but Cas-da explained that this was their silly way of showing that they care for each other and they aren’t really mad at each other. Sam-da puts the hand that isn’t holding the kite in my hair, and everything is perfect. I didn’t ever think I would find a family again, but I have. Unka De being sick these past few months worried me that I was gonna lose my new family, too. But right now, seeing everyone watch Unka De and Unka Gabe be silly, everything is perfect, and I wouldn’t change anything.


End file.
